


Falling Together

by TeamHPForever



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, vulcan bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock knows the moment his bond to T'Pring breaks, leaving an empty void in the back of his mind. What he doesn't expect is for that void to be filled so soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Together

Spock knows the moment his bond breaks. He can feel it, a sharp snap in the back of his mind. The breaking of the bond that has been there since childhood, always pushed into a dark corner and mostly ignored.

Its disappearance leaves a startlingly strong void in his mind but there are more important things to worry about.

The destruction of Vulcan. His failure to save his mother.

Then there’s captaining the Enterprise, exiling Kirk to Delta Vega, his surprisingly quick return, resigning command, and everything to follow with Nero.

Spock thinks about the bond briefly, as they deliver his father and the other Vulcans they rescued to New Vulcan. He and T’Pring had certainly never been close—or as _not close_ as two bonded Vulcans can be—but he still wonders what her loss will mean for him. If she survived, would he have given up his position on the Enterprise to join her on New Vulcan? Would she even have allowed it?

He thinks about asking Spock Prime what was in the other world and decides he’d rather not know.

He doesn’t have much of a chance to wonder, however, with the arrival of Khan. He feels Kirk’s death like a blade of ice punched straight through his heart. It makes his blood boil in a way that he’s never experienced before and hopes he never will again.

The only thought on his mind that day is _revenge._ Until Uhura beams down and says the only two words that could ever make him halt: _save Kirk._

Spock sits at his captain’s bedside every day, a constant fear in the forefront of his mind that he might have been too late. That Kirk will never wake up. Or, if he does, he’ll never be the same.

The relief when Kirk opens his eyes sweeps him up like a violent sandstorm. Kirk will be fine. _They_ will be fine.

In that moment, Spock feels the void in his mind being filled. It isn’t a bond, but a hope of one. A hope of a future with the both of them.

It’s another month before Kirk is finally released from the hospital. Spock goes to visit him every day, telling him about the repairs on the Enterprise and the plans being made for her christening.

When they are granted the five-year mission, Spock is the first to tell him. Kirk’s face splits into the widest grin that he’s ever witnessed.

“Five years in space?” he says.

“Five years in space,” Spock agrees. He can’t wait to be back among the stars, standing at Kirk’s side with their crew around them. If he thinks about the desire for his captain to become that and more, it’s only in the moments of inactivity when he is out of Kirk’s presence.

He has no way of telling whether Kirk feels the same way. Logic will not help him here. He thinks about Spock Prime’s words— _put aside logic; do what feels right_ —but how does he know what feels right? And what if it isn’t right for Kirk?

Spock won’t risk losing Kirk’s friendship. He can’t.

After Kirk is released from the hospital and the Enterprise is approved for flight once more, Spock stands on the bridge with him and feels the rising anticipation of a new journey.

“Where should we go?” Kirk asks.

Spock looks at the dark sky around them, full of mystery and danger and promise. The day has finally arrived, the day they’ve all been waiting for. The Enterprise shines around them, good as new and ready for departure. “As a voyage of this length has never been attempted before, I defer to your good judgment, Captain.”

Kirk smiles at him and Spock feels that blooming bond in his mind pulse with renewed energy. He pushes it away as he goes to his post and Kirk settles into the chair. “Sulu, take us out,” he says and they blast away into warp.

The first year of their mission isn’t easy, but then again, what is with James T. Kirk? They explore the stars, visit planets, make peace with cultures, and look down the wrong end of phasers when necessary.

Spock’s friendship with Kirk grows. They often meet in the evenings now, usually to play chess. They take meals together. Work on the bridge together. Keep a watchful eye on _their_ ship together. Spock doesn’t know what to do with what is the closest friendship—quite possibly the _only_ friendship—he’s ever had.

It doesn’t take Spock long to realize that, a well-known flirt, Kirk has stopped flirting. He’s always cordial when it comes to their female crew members. He’s never anything other than polite on planets. He stays with the other crew members during shore leave.

It takes Spock a lot longer to realize why.

What is supposed to be a normal diplomatic mission goes wrong—of course it does—and Spock finds himself the target of a gun. The rebel holding it either has bad aim or a good knowledge of Vulcan anatomy, because the blast hits him in the side, just above his heart.

The last thing he hears is Kirk yelling, “Spock!” In the darkness crashing over him, the bond burns red.

When Spock regains consciousness, he’s in medbay. On one side is Dr. McCoy with his tricorder. On the other is Kirk, his arm in a sling.

“Did we…?” Spock trails off. It hurts too much to speak. He wants to get out of this bed and return to his post, but everything aches.

“We defeated them,” Kirk replies. “For a moment I thought you were…”

 _Dead._ The word hangs between them like a curtain. Spock has been there once. He knows what it’s like to watch his best friend die and know there is nothing he can do to save him.

“I will be fine, Captain,” Spock says, resisting the urge to scowl at how broken and hoarse his voice feels.

Kirk glances at Dr. McCoy. The doctor grumbles as he tucks away his tricorder and leaves them alone. Kirk sits on the edge of Spock’s bed, looking more awkward than he can ever remember seeing him.

“Are you all right, Captain?” Spock asks finally.

Kirk glances down at the sling. “I’m fine. There…was a fight. After you went down.” He doesn’t have to explain. “Bones says you can return to work in a few days, if you don’t move too much in the meantime.”

Spock sighs. He hates to be confined. “Will you bring me my PADD?”

“Sure.” Kirk smiles. “I can do that. Is there anything else you need?”

“Only for you to refrain from reckless activities in my absence,” Spock says it even though he knows it’s pointless. Kirk is reckless whether he’s at his side or not. All he can do is his best to protect his captain.

“I try,” Kirk says. Spock stares back at him blankly. Kirk looks like he wants to say more, but he merely slides off the edge of the bed. “I’ll go get your PADD.” He is gone.  

Sitting in bed for four days gives Spock a lot of time to think. He thinks about the rebels and the Enterprise and the snatches of news that come in. Negotiations are in progress between the remaining rebels and the government. They seem to be going well and Kirk hopes that they can head out in a day or two.

But mostly Spock thinks about Kirk.

He thinks about the anguish in Kirk’s voice when he’d been shot and how, if he’d died, that would have been the last thing he ever heard. He thinks about the relief in Kirk’s eyes when Spock looked at him. He thinks about the spark of _something_ looking back at him, something familiar and yet entirely new.

He thinks about it all for hours and isn’t any closer to a decision after it all. 

At the end of the four days, Dr. McCoy releases him from the medbay with the condition that he will _not_ work under any circumstances until the morning. Spock agrees, for no other reason than he is going as stir-crazy as a Vulcan can.

When the doorbell to his cabin rings, Spock glances up, eyebrows raised in surprise. Kirk should still be on the bridge. Uhura is doubtlessly with him. Perhaps Dr. McCoy had forgotten something. 

“Come in,” he says.

Kirk opens the door and steps inside, wearing the exhausted expression of a long day’s work followed by a shift on the bridge. “Bones told me he let you out,” he explains. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I will return to work tomorrow, Captain.” The niggling bond thrums in his mind, a steady pulse of light that distracts him.

Kirk sits down at the table and nods at the chess board, still set up from their last game before the rebels got in the way. “Care to finish the game?”

Spock joins him at the table in answer. It’s his move. He considers the board for a moment, reorienting himself with the game at hand, and moves his knight.

Kirk moves his castle. They continue in this way for fifty-nine minutes, both of them focused on the game rather than each other.

“The Enterprise is heading out tomorrow,” Kirk says. “There’s nothing more for us here.”

“Is there any specific destination?” Spock asks.

Kirk shakes his head. “Where no one has gone before.”

They continue on playing for six minutes. Spock feels a surge of satisfaction as the way to a checkmate becomes clear. His mind slips to other things and goes straight to that day down on the planet.

“What happened precisely while I was unconscious?” Spock asks. Kirk has refused to talk specifics and Dr. McCoy feigned indifference the couple of times he asked him about it.

Kirk gulps, eyes fixed on the board. “They fired at us. We fired back. We won. Bones brought you to the Enterprise immediately.”

 “You have not told me how your arm came to be in a sling.”

“Sprained my wrist. Badly.” Kirk’s voice is nonchalant but Spock can read him like a book. He is still avoiding the Vulcan’s eyes. There has to be more to the story.

 “How?”

“Fighting the rebels.”

“Hand-to-hand?” Spock is within three moves of winning, but he isn’t ready for the game to be over. He makes another move instead.

 “Maybe.”

Spock is silent as they trade a pair of moves. “Was it the one that attacked me?”

“Yes.” Kirk’s voice is low, but Spock can hear him as clearly as if he’d shouted. “Yes, it was.” Spock is taken back to another time, one year and fifty-six days ago, when he’d done the same thing for Kirk.

“Why?” He knows, he just wants to hear Kirk’s justification.

“Because I thought he killed you.” Kirk makes a move in the same way he talks, slowly and carefully.

Spock makes his final move. “Checkmate.”

Kirk slumps back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. “You win again, Spock.”

 “It was a good game, Jim.” Kirk’s head jerks up at the sound of his first name on Spock’s lips. He has that look in his eyes again, the one that Spock doesn’t know how to name. The bond bursts like a solar flare in his head.

“I should go,” Kirk says, standing up. Spock rises automatically. The movement brings them so close together that Spock can feel the heat radiating from Kirk.

Kirk is getting closer. Spock knows that he should probably step away. He doesn’t. He reaches out and rests his hand against his captain’s injured hand. The bond flares again as the emotions flow into him: curiosity, fear, desire, _love._

Spock doesn’t move as Kirk kisses him. It’s soft and chaste and more amazing than anything he could have imagined. Not that he’s imagined anything.

“Is this okay?” Kirk murmurs as he pulls away.

“Stop talking, Jim.” Spock kisses him again, reaching out for Kirk’s unbound hand and twining their fingers together. Even the feather-light touch sends shivers down his spine.

The bond beats in satisfaction.

It’s two months—two amazing months—before Spock brings up the bond growing inside his mind. The light has grown in the time they’ve been together, carefully tended but not allowed to fully form.

Kirk is understandably apprehensive but willing to give it a try. He repeats the words of bonding back to Spock as he whispers them to his t’hy’la in the dark of Kirk’s bedroom. Kirk relaxes as Spock rests his fingers against the side of his face.

The effect is instantaneous. Spock can feel Kirk’s emotions rolling through him along with a quick flash of memories. From Kirk’s gasp, he knows that he can see the same thing.

A boy stealing his stepfather’s car and sending it plummeting over the side of a cliff.

The beating that resulted in him not being able to sit down for a week.

The boy’s mother stroking his hair as she explained to him that even though she’d just gotten home from a mission, she was being sent on another one in the morning.

Tarsus IV—the massacre, the screams and the blood and the people willingly walking to their deaths and the blinding, always present _fear._

The relief and the nightmares after it was all over and he was safe.

The day he decided to join Starfleet and the look of mixed pride and sorrow on his mother’s face when he told her.

The events of the last couple years flash by faster, as Spock had been there for most of it—the Kobayashi Maru, the Enterprise, Nero, Khan, the five-year mission, and everything that had come to pass since then.

Gradually, the flow of memories fades into the steady pulse of the present. Spock opens his eyes to see Kirk staring at him. There’s a tear running down the side of his face.

“T’Pring, did you love her?” are the first words out of Kirk’s mouth.

Spock wants to laugh. Out of all the things they’d just seen, out of all the questions Kirk could have asked, that’s the one he chooses. In a way, it makes sense. He can feel Kirk’s insecurity rattling inside their bond and in response he sends a wave of reassurance. “No. I did not. We were bonded as children. There was no choice in the matter.”

Spock kisses his captain lazily, letting them float in the newness of the bond. They share emotions and thoughts back and forth, but always around them is the surging warmth of their affection.

The void in his mind left by T’Pring’s death fills with a new connection that he’d never had with her. It’s comforting and brings new life to every fiber of his body. He no longer feels like an outsider, a child of two worlds. He feels complete, like he’s right where he belongs.

 _I love you,_ he tells Kirk through the bond.

 _I love you, too._ Kirk’s response is immediate and feels like a caress through his consciousness. It’s more intimate than anything they’ve ever done and also the most _right._ He realizes that maybe this is what Spock Prime really was talking about.

_My mind to your mind._

_One._

_And together._


End file.
